


Do What I Tell You

by Highlander_II



Series: kink_bingo: 2012 [41]
Category: Van Helsing (2004)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, BDSM, Community: kink_bingo, Dominance, Emotion Play, Gangbang, Glory Hole, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Sexual Submission, Submission, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Van Helsing tugged the blanket over his head with a groan.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"You do realize I have to punish you now, Gabriel?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He nodded his head without removing the blanket.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Carl takes his pet out for a walk.  He has 'plans'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do What I Tell You

He knelt on the floor like usual, bound into position like usual, a blindfold over his eyes like usual. It had become a routine when they were on assignment. Carl would send him up to the room first to get ready. He would strip out of his clothes and kneel on the floor waiting for Carl. Carl would come up, bind him in place and put on the blindfold. Then Carl would give him the instructions and leave again for a bit, until he found what he was looking for, then he would return.

Van Helsing sat quietly. Waiting. The hard floor beneath his naked knees was sure to leave them red and raw. That thought alone aroused him.

What did Carl have planned for him tonight?

They had been working on a new 'project' that Carl had yet to put a proper name to. Carl referred to it as his 'pet project' and made sure Van Helsing was along for the ride.

So far, the project had included blindfolding him, bringing him to an undisclosed location, stripping him naked, binding him in place and instructing him to suck cock. They had started with one man and graduated to nearly fifteen men the last time they had had a chance to play.

The idea, at first, had caused some resistance. Van Helsing had not been as intrigued by the idea as Carl had, but with a little discussion and a great deal of reassurance, he had agreed as long as Carl promised to take it slow. He should have realized his mistake when he saw Carl smirking with that promise. He should have realized 'slow' meant 'one at a time'.

That meant one cock presented to him the first night, two the second, three the third and so on until the last time they had played when the number was up to fifteen. He hadn't known that it would take nearly a year to get that far. His assignments and Carl's experiments had slowed their progress considerably.

Though, he does clearly remember the time, while on assignment, Carl had wrangled up eight men for a little 'party' as he had called it.

* * *

_He's knelt on the floor, wrists bound at his back, scarf tied about his face, shielding his eyes. Carl has assured him that no one will recognize them. It's a small comfort, but it's all he's got. Van Helsing is naked and doesn't think that is much of a disguise, but Carl seems convinced._

_"Wait here. I'll be back soon," Carl says, kisses his mouth, then is gone._

_Van Helsing hears the door close a moment later and he's left in silence. The room feels larger than it is. He's alone, knees pressing into the hard wooden floor, with only the sounds of the inn for company._

_His back straightens immediately when he hears the door squeak open. Boots fall heavily on the floor and he tries to count the steps and cadences to get a feel for how many men enter the room. Belt buckles crankle and fabric rustles; throats are cleared and whispers are exchanged, drawing his attention away from the footsteps so he loses count._

_The smell of men and leather and horses makes its way to his nostrils. It's enough to make his knees shift on the floor and his mouth begin to water. His cock hardens when he hears the men begin to mutter and groan softly as they stroke themselves to hardness for his mouth._

_Carl's hand brushes through his hair and he sighs softly at the touch. Then Carl's fingers close around the strands and his voice rumbles in Van Helsing's ear. "You want this, don't you, my pet?" he asks._

_Van Helsing swallows hard and nods his head. "Yes," he answers. He's wanted this since they left the Vatican._

_"You hunger for it," Carl's words are a statement, not a question and Van Helsing can't object. "You need to suck every cock I've brought you. You want them to thrust into your face and spill down your throat. Don't you?"_

_The resulting rumbling growl from his chest is answer enough, but he says, "I need to suck them all, sir." 'Sir' is the code word they had chosen in an effort to maintain some anonymity. Typically, Van Helsing would address Carl by his name, but during the course of this exercise, they had used 'sir' and 'pet'._

_"I know you do, pet," Carl confirms with a light chuckle. "Open that slutty mouth of yours and get to work." He releases his hold on Van Helsing's hair and steps back to watch._

_Eagerly, Van Helsing takes the first cock between his lips. Sucking and licking and letting the man grab his head to thrust into his mouth until he comes in a hot, wet spurt. He waits for the command, then swallows before taking the next._

_There are eight men in all - not including Carl - and Van Helsing makes sure to please each and every one, just as he had been instructed. Carl ushers the men out with a thanks for their participation in the evening's events, then bolts the door. "There is one more cock to please before I truly work on you, pet. You know how this works." Carl grabs his hair and shoves his own hard cock into Van Helsing's mouth. "I know you enjoyed all of those others, Van Helsing," Carl says as he fucks Van Helsing's mouth. "And you'll enjoy it next time as well. You are a dirty little whore for me, aren't you?"_

_Working to pleasure Carl with his mouth, Van Helsing can only nod in response. The truth was, sucking off the cadres of men Carl brought to him turned him on, not only because he enjoyed sucking cock, but also because it pleased Carl. And when Carl was happy, Van Helsing would be rewarded. He is waiting impatiently for his reward for tonight._

_Carl comes in his mouth, arching up onto the balls of his feet and grunting unintelligible sounds. "Oh, my dear, Van Helsing, I am going to reward you well for tonight."_

* * *

He was expecting a similar situation for tonight's festivities. Apparently, Carl had other ideas. When Carl returned, he tugged the blindfold off Van Helsing's face, unbound his wrists, then told him to stand and get dressed in those 'new denim trousers from the Americas'. He was confused and gaped for quite some time at Carl as the little man puttered around collecting various objects.

Carl stopped mid-scurry and blinked impatiently. "Do I need to tell you again?"

Van Helsing shook his head. "No." He found his trousers and began tugging them on. "Though, I am confused."

"We're doing something different tonight." Carl wagged a hand at the space in the floor where Van Helsing had knelt. "That was routine. For comfort's sake. Now, can we get going, hmm?"

He said nothing more as he dressed and waited for Carl. He received a swift, yet steamy kiss as Carl breezed by on his way to the door. Van Helsing followed as directed and they made their way through the corridors of the Order's basement dwellings, into the crisp autumn night air.

As they crossed the square, he asked, "Carl, where are we going?" It was unusual for him to 'follow' in the outside world. On missions, he was in charge and made sure he did all he could to keep Carl safe. When they bunked down for the night, as long as they were in a standard lodging-type structure (mostly meaning they weren't camping out under the stars or in a cave where Van Helsing would be required to be on alert, even while asleep), Carl took over and Van Helsing relished the opportunity to let go.

They weren't on a mission. They were walking the familiar streets of Rome. And Carl was in charge. He wasn't sure how he felt about this change in dynamics. It made him a little nervous.

He stutter-stepped backwards as Carl shoved him down an alley and pushed him against a wall. His heart was pounding, trying to escape his chest and quite a bit of blood had immediately rushed to his groin.

"Listen to me, Gabriel," Carl snarled into his face, "you follow my lead. I will allow you to keep your senses on alert to avoid us being attacked by - anything lurking in the darkness - but you will do everything else I tell you, do you understand?"

Van Helsing nodded. He understood completely. Carl was a lot more forceful than he had given him credit for. It was hot. "What signal would you like me to use if we are actually in danger?" he asked, not being defiant in the least - this time.

"'Danger' should suffice, thank you." Carl wasn't angry, Van Helsing knew that, he was putting the evening into perspective. Even Van Helsing would admit he is sometimes hard-headed about catching on to things he considered out of place or confusing. Carl had a knack for working through that.

Van Helsing nodded and relaxed against the wall until Carl let him go. He followed the friar, dressed in an outfit that would clue no one in to the fact that the man was, indeed, a friar. Carl wore similar denim trousers to his own and a wool pull-over. Van Helsing had been quite content with his own fantasy that Carl wore nothing at all under those priestly robes, but was not displeased with the truth, at least as far as the way Carl's small frame fit into that denim he was wearing.

He kept his strides to such a length that he was always half a pace behind Carl. It suited their positions without telegraphing anything overly untoward to the general public. And with Van Helsing on alert for danger, it appeared that he was walking behind as a protective measure, rather than a submissive one.

The theme of the evening was unclear to him. Carl hadn't given him any sort of objective. He found himself creating his own after he spotted a man leaning against a wall, rubbing a hand over his thigh. Van Helsing felt his groin stir seeing just that innocent action. He was surprised to discover that he had been picturing himself, on his knees, in the alley, slurping hungrily at the man's prick. He shook that image off and listened for signs of Carl's conversational topic. Strangely, there didn't seem to be one.

They passed a group of men standing together, smoking cigars and conversing amongst themselves. Van Helsing nodded politely to them as he passed. His mouth was watering. He had to blink himself back to the present to get out of the filthy imagery in his head.

After the third or fourth time this happened, he asked Carl about it. Carl's only response was the slightest twitch of the corner of his mouth. If Van Helsing wasn't mistaken, the little bastard had been smirking at him. Now defiance would be in full swing. He stopped in the middle of the road, crossed his arms and waited.

"Gabriel," Carl sighed over his shoulder, "we don't have time to stop."

"Do we have an appointment?" he growled.

"We don't have time to stop," Carl insisted.

"We do if I'm going mad," Van Helsing countered, standing firm. The sudden visions pouring into his mind every time he passed a random man on the street were disconcerting.

Carl took two steps back toward Van Helsing. "You're not going mad. Come with me and I will explain."

No one but Carl could convince Van Helsing to budge with so little argument. God forbid the Cardinal ever learn of that.

He followed obediently, continuing to have the strange fantasies along the way and feeling his cock harden to painful levels. He hoped the darkness and the denim hid that well. When Carl led him into one of the less reputable taverns, he nearly tripped up the steps behind him. Why were they going here?

All the stares he received made him wish for his hat. At least he could have shielded his face, even if it would have been highly impolite to keep his hat on inside the building. What had he let Carl talk him into this time? Trying hard not to blush furiously, he followed Carl through a maze of corridors until they reached what appeared to be a row of closets.

"Carl, what are we -" he stopped when Carl pressed a finger to his lips.

Behind the door Carl opened was a narrow room, paneled in wood. It was dark and had a musty smell to it. Were they actually in a closet? He didn't feel clothing or outerwear on either side. He did feel Carl standing directly in front of him, warmth radiating off him.

"This is the ultimate test, Gabriel," Carl said ominously. "Take off your shirt. I will explain the rest in a moment."

Confused, Van Helsing stripped his top off, stood bare-chested in the tiny room and waited - again. The room started to feel stuffy and warm. Was that from body heat or had something in the room actually changed?

He was told to take three steps to his left, turn to his left, then kneel on the floor. Once he was in position, Carl was beside him again with fist in his hair and his voice growling in his ear: "You think I didn't see you? You think I don't know what you were doing out there? That I didn't see you looking at those men? That I don't know what you were imagining doing to them?"

Van Helsing felt his head jerked back when he didn't respond immediately. "No," he said, voice strained, "I know you saw. You knew." He shifted on his knees. "Especially after I told you I thought I was going mad." His cock twitched in his trousers. His earlier defiance would likely earn him a punishment.

"And what did I tell you, Gabriel?" Carl asked.

He took a deep breath, as deep as he could with his head tugged back like it was. "That I wasn't going mad," he answered.

"Correct. And do you know why?" Carl continued.

Van Helsing shook his head. "No." That was still concerning him. Carl was certain he wasn't going mad, but evidence to the contrary hadn't convinced him of that fact.

"It's the same reason I knew you were imagining yourself, on your knees, sucking off all of those men we passed," the friar rumbled into his ear.

He swallowed hard. Carl's grip on his hair was tight. The words in his ear, hot and harsh. He wanted Carl to take him right there, on the floor, make him beg for more and scream in frustration when he was made to wait. He was hard enough that it was painful, but knew he couldn't touch. He had to wait.

And wait.

He hated waiting.

Carl was letting the silence drag. 'Making him wait for the rest of the explanation. How long would he have to wait?

He felt the warm wetness of Carl's tongue curling around the shell of his ear just before he heard Carl speak again. "You imagine yourself doing those things because I've _trained_ you to imagine them," Carl said, voice rough and low.

Van Helsing nearly lost all control at that point. Carl had _wanted_ him looking at those men on the street. Carl had _wanted_ him fantasizing about taking their cocks into his mouth and sucking them off in the alleys. Carl had _wanted_ him to become aroused by the images and thoughts in his head. Suddenly, he was proud of himself for being an excellent student. Though, he wished he had known that was going on - he might have been even better at it.

"Now, Gabriel, there is a small hole in front of you. You will wrap your devilish lips around whatever cock presents itself to you via it. Do you understand me, my pet?" Carl rumbled, deep and heavy.

This was slightly more public than their previous efforts, but he nodded his understanding of Carl's instructions. This was still behind closed doors, but there was no expectation of privacy in the room. Or on the other side. A thrill of anticipation skittered down his spine when he felt Carl release the hold on his hair. Where was Carl going to be? He wanted to know.

"Now, my pet, I don't know now long it will take for the first to arrive, but you are to sit here, quietly, until you are presented with a cock. Then you suck it to completion, then wait for the next. However long it takes. I will return for you when I feel you have earned enough experience through this lesson." Carl leaned down to kiss his mouth. "Now, be a good slut and you'll earn yourself another reward."

Van Helsing heard Carl exit the room, but could still see very little. Even when the door opened, no additional light seemed to make its way into the room. Despite his ability to see in the dark, there did need to be some light for that to be possible and, in this closet-like room, there wasn't _enough_ ambient light for his eyes to take in much more than the few inches directly in front of his face.

While he sat by the conveniently cut hole in the wall, his mind fired off a number of questions he had no answers to - 'How long would he have to wait for the first man to enter?'; 'How long would Carl make him stay in here sucking cocks through this hole?'; 'Would Carl be one of the men?'; 'Would he be able to hold back his own orgasm until Carl's return?'. 'Was he supposed to?'

He was saved from having to focus on these questions for too long by the door opening on the other side of the hole. Trying not to appear too eager, he shifted on his knees, sidling closer to the wall without bumping it. The man on the other side unfastened his trousers and pushed his prick through the hole in the wall. Licking his lips, Van Helsing leaned forward, raising himself up on his knees, pressed his hands against the wall and circled his tongue around the head of the man's penis. He was rewarded with a deep groan from the other side.

He worked on the man's cock until he tasted come on his tongue, then swallowed that down as he was always to do. He had enjoyed sucking the man's cock and offered a polite 'thank you' through the hole. The man grunted an affirmative and left the room.

The second man did a lot of humping the wall during his turn. Van Helsing wasn't sure if he was new to this or drunk or merely quirky, but he obliged him as best he could through all the thrusting. Much of that man's come landed on Van Helsing's chin and chest, rather than in his mouth. That was not his preferred series of actions, but he had little control over what the men on the other side did.

The next few were fairly straightforward with their approach - through the hole, come in his mouth, extract and leave. Van Helsing worked through each as though it might be the last time he would ever get to suck cock. The deep-seated moans from the other side told him they appreciated his technique and enthusiasm.

By patron number ten, Van Helsing was as hard as he thought he could get and longed to just brush his wrist against his cock. Something to relieve the strain. After the twelfth patron had departed, Van Helsing was bouncing on his knees in anticipation of the next, like a junkie coming off a bender. By eighteen, he was clawing at the wall to find another cock for his mouth.

Number twenty was different. The smell of gun powder and chemicals met his nose. He pressed closer to the wall without pushing anything through the hole and sniffed. He peered through the opening and caught a glimpse of what appeared to be brown friar's robes. Was this Carl? The only way to find out was to taste the cock when it was presented to him.

He curled his greedy lips around the shaft as it pushed through the hole. It wasn't Carl. He knew that almost immediately. From the ambient scents, he was certain it was someone from the labs where Carl worked. Rather than spend time deciphering the man's identity, he concentrated on the work of his mouth. It took him so long to get the man off he was sure his jaw would lock up before he was done. The man apologized for taking so long, but he had been enjoying the work of Van Helsing's mouth so much, he wanted to make it last as long as he could. As a 'thank you', Van Helsing gave the man an extra lick the length of his cock. He figured it was better not to speak to someone who might be able to identify _him_ later.

Van Helsing thought twenty was the end. But the door opened again on the other side and he heard at least three men enter the room. What did they have in mind? He hadn't been told there was more than one hole to tend to on the wall, but he supposed there could be. His fingers scratched anxiously at his thighs, coating his fingernails in a fine blue felt.

When he realized that he would be getting three cocks from this group, probably one after the other, his mouth began to water and he had to take several deep breaths to hold off his orgasm. Should he have been enjoying this as much as he was? Was this normal? Would it interfere with his work?

His self-indulgent thoughts were put on hold the moment a thick, warm cock slid through the hole in the wall. Van Helsing wrapped his lips around the head and began to work. The man grunted for him to use his hands, then squeezed his balls through the hole as well. Not one to pass up such an opportunity, Van Helsing put his hands to work too. From the appreciative sounds from the other side, his talents were well received. He made sure to use similar techniques on the other two men when they took their turn.

He heard them ask each other if they would be able to fuck the owner of the mouth on the other side of the wall. Was that allowed? Was it possible through the small hole? Van Helsing decided the idea was intriguing enough to give it a try. He made a sound to get their attention and waved them to the hole with a crooked finger.

The men on the other side of the hole seemed confused, twittering among themselves until Van Helsing pressed his backside against the hole. Even then, his knees began to shake while he waited for them to decide what they were going to do. He was ready to draw his trousers back up and kneel on the floor to service the next man when he felt something cold and slippery at his opening. That touch alone, even from a stranger - especially from a faceless stranger - was more than enough to push him over the edge, but somehow, he held on, waiting.

He was prepared quickly and mounted just as swiftly by the man with the thickest cock of the three. It was painful, but he adjusted. He stepped his feet farther apart to better take the rough fucking and bit his lip to keep from crying out in pleasure.

His mind was spiraling off into a world of dazed pleasure so that he could barely hear the two men urging on their companion, as well as the man fucking him uttering words he couldn't make out. It didn't matter. The feeling of being filled and fucked and the men trading off filling his ass was all he needed to focus on.

Van Helsing was panting and grunting through the seemingly endless fucking, his legs nearly collapsing from the effort of holding himself in position, when Carl reentered the room. The look on his face spoke volumes. At the moment, Van Helsing didn't much care. He panted and drooled and grunted and groaned while his ass was used mercilessly by the men in the other room.

Carl grabbed his hair and jerked his head up so he could see Carl's angry eyes. Through gritted teeth so only Van Helsing could hear, Carl growled, "Are you enjoying yourself, slut?"

Van Helsing grunted and answered, "Yes, sir."

Carl tipped his head to the side. "I don't think you have enough cock yet." He opened his trousers, drew out his own cock and thrust it into Van Helsing's mouth with no warning and without releasing his hair. "Suck me off, you filthy whore." Then Carl leaned in close to his ear, "And don't you dare fucking come before I give permission."

Van Helsing gurgled a sound of understanding and worked his tongue around Carl's hard cock. Had they not negotiated the conditions and limits of their relationship, this would all be unsettling as hell for him, but Carl had been careful to lay out very strict and sturdy ground rules before they'd played the first scene. He never thought he would enjoy such things, but Carl had a persuasive streak and an ability to make everything they did delectable. It hadn't taken him long to grow to love all of it.

He lost track of time. He lost track of everything that wasn't cock. His ass was repeatedly filled and fucked while Carl continued to thrust into his mouth. And still, he was not allowed to come. The pain is his groin was reaching unbearable levels and only his damned stubbornness was keeping him from spilling himself all over the floor.

"Are you hard, my pet? Are you ready to come? Are you wanting me to spill down your throat so you can taste me? Are you relishing having your ass used by all those men?" Carl asked close to his ear.

He groaned an affirmative. The answer to each of those questions was 'yes'. He was more than ready to come and he was wishing the fucking of his ass would go on forever.

Carl withdrew his cock from Van Helsing's mouth. In response to the resulting whimper of disappointment, Carl said, "You are going to fuck me until I tell you to come, do you understand?"

Van Helsing nodded and muttered a barely audible 'yes'. Watching Carl prep himself was almost more than he could take. When Carl presented his ass to Van Helsing, it took a monumental effort to line up his extremely sensitive cock and push into the heat of Carl's ass. But, once he was there, he began thrusting his hips against him, almost without word from his brain to do so. Each thrust was punctuated by a push from the men still fucking him through the hole in the wall. He could hear Carl groaning softly in pleasure as Van Helsing fucked him just the way he liked.

"You may come now, my pet," Carl permitted as he spilled himself all over the floor.

Van Helsing's orgasm raced through him as though it was lightning seeking an outlet. His toes curled in his boots, his fingers dug welts into Carl's hips and he clenched his teeth to keep from screaming out the pent-up frustration from having to hold out for so damned long.

He slumped against Carl's back, spent and exhausted. Someone was still fucking his ass and he didn't have the strength to ask them to stop. He'd have to leave that for Carl to do. He thought he heard one of them mutter 'I think we wore the poor chap out,' but he couldn't be sure of anything at that point.

The next thing he remembered clearly was waking up in a soft bed, warm and clean with his head in Carl's lap. He blinked an eye open to look around and realized they were not in the church or anywhere like it. He assumed it must be the tavern they had patronized the night before. He grunted, rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. His body ached.

"A bit worn out, are we?" Carl asked in a tone that did not seem all that sympathetic to his plight. He grunted something just so Carl would continue. "You were very bad last night, my pet. You were not supposed to let anyone fuck you. You were supposed to suck cock."

Van Helsing tugged the blanket over his head with a groan.

"You do realize I have to punish you now, Gabriel?"

He nodded his head without removing the blanket.

Carl did it for him, eyebrow arched high into his forehead. "Though, I am mightily impressed with how long you resisted coming. That was rather amazing. For that, maybe I can ease the punishment a bit."

"Thank you, sir," Van Helsing muttered from his further attempts at slumber. He truly was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep for four days or more. His body ached in places he had no idea could ache.

"Sleep now while I think up your punishment. I have a few ideas floating about, but they need some refinement. We'll discuss it when you wake up." Carl kissed his forehead and drew the blanket up again.

Van Helsing groaned and settled into the bed. Sleep would come, he was sure, but what sorts of dreams would accompany that slumber was another matter altogether. He wasn't sure how much he could survive if the dreams were like the fantasies he had earlier or like the evening of debauchery he'd just endured.


End file.
